771. Why, Then, Complain, by Vernon Watkins

Why, then, complain of evil days
If days you knew before were good?
That is a shallow kind of praise
Which cannot thrive on bitter food.

I know too great a recompense
For any tempest to destroy.
When joy has lost its last defence,
Then is the time to learn of joy.

Let discord beat about my ears,
I know too well what time may bring,
Nor can it touch the truest tears,
Such is the secret of their spring.

Source:  The Collected Poems of Vernon Watkins

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